Who knows
what visceral vistas of pain
will lead me to you
in your mist-shrouded
mount of passion

I will, one day,
pause for that moment
wrench reality from
trembling dreams

Sweat-drunk nights I’ve crushed
visions into the darkness
pounding past the fertile womb
of your threshold

My limbs ache for your hold
the cold touch on my writhing
your silver gaze will draw me
uncombatant to your hypnotic void

Lover, wife, cruel mistress
the night’s far with you
your smile soaks in pangs
of endless lovers’ vows

Waves devour oceans of sand
as we churn our wail of love
processing progeny worlds ahead
Orphans of another night

I feel immanence
in the moment’s lurch
Time’s drawing close
aching for consummation
lover, death.